


what you want from me

by earltrancy



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:48:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earltrancy/pseuds/earltrancy
Summary: That's what I want. That smug fucking grin that I always hated so much; those cool grey eyes always plotting against me. I hate it twice as much now, because he's twice as fucking smug, because Iloveit and Iwantit and heknows,Merlin he knows.





	what you want from me

**Author's Note:**

> clearing out my drafts and i found this little thing from a year or two ago. the writing style is kind of dorky but it's still cute, so i decided to post it anyway.

** Baz **

“Baz,” he pants, breathes out my name, and I feel like I’m drowning in it. “Fuck, _Basil.”_

I don't answer, but I don't really try to. I grin knowingly, and tangle my fingers in his golden curls. I pull him back in and I'm kissing him again. _Kissing him._ Kissing him _again._ Because kissing him is now something I've _done before,_ and have been doing a lot of, recently, actually – and I'm thinking about this too much. I don't know if he notices, but now he's _not_ kissing me, and I make some shameful noise between a grumble and a whine at the loss. He soothes me with feathery kisses on my jaw, back across my lips, my chin, my throat, and gets a little more messy from there. On purpose, probably. Teeth scrape against my collarbone and lips sincerely apologize. He's trailing kisses back up, and I want his lips on mine, but they go to my neck instead, open-mouthed, sloppy kisses. And bites. He bites, and it's laughably cute, little kitten-like nips – harmless. Until he gets at that spot under my right ear, and bites _hard,_ and I whimper because I'm weak and finally reply with a stuttered, _“S-Snow.”_

He kisses the bite that I know will be a bruise; he kisses my lips gently, and pulls away with a smirk.

“That's better,” he says smugly, whispered against my lips.

I smirk back, slow and mean. _Bastard._

** Simon **

That's what I want. That smug fucking grin that I always hated so much; those cool grey eyes always plotting against me. I hate it twice as much now, because he's twice as fucking smug, because I _love_ it and I _want_ it and he _knows,_ Merlin he knows.

I want to point out to him that it's painfully ironic that one of his sweet spots is so close to his jugular, but then he's kissing me again, harsh and fast, and I’m not going to complain.

He bites my lip, pulls at it a little, then sucks on it, then his tongue is in my mouth and I _shiver_ and he hums and laughs through his nose, hands balling into fists in my hair. He tugs at it when I shift in his lap and I lurch forward a little and moan into his mouth, too loud. He pulls away from me, and the smile he gives me is pure fucking evil.

He's calculating and almost cold and clearly amused with something. He pulls me forward again by my hair and I breathe, _“Baz, Baz,”_ and I'm rewarded with a kiss, gentle and slow but not long enough. 

_“That_ is bloody adorable,” he mutters back happily, and he is far too damn perceptive for someone whose hard cock I’m currently sat on, so I roll my hips and grin back at him when he moans.

“So’s that,” I say, and then the air’s knocked out of me as he flips me back onto the floor.

He's on top of me now, straddling my lap and holding my wrists above my head; he's picked me up and switched our positions before I could protest. Fucking footballers. 

Not that I would protest. Well, maybe a little, but only so he'd do it meaner.

As it is, he's kissing me now, asking without words if this is okay, if he hurt me. Telling me he loves me, but that one in words, soft, panted, sincere ones, _“I love you, Simon, I love you.”_

I kiss back quickly, crashing my lips to his so he doesn't notice that I’m fucking _giddy_ on the affection. I think it has the opposite effect, though, because now he's praising me as he's kissing me, telling me I’m gorgeous and incredible and he can't believe he has me. 

“You do,” I whimper, “I’m yours.”

And now he's making a path of kisses on my skin, like I'd done to him before. He’s on the left side of my neck, and he’s more thorough, more methodical. 

Then he’s biting hard into my neck where it meets my shoulder in his shitty and completely unfair version of justice, and I’m gasping for breath and bucking my hips up and _whining_ at him, “Baz, Bazzy, baby, _fuck,_ please.”

His eyes flash, and the fucking smirk is back, which does absolutely nothing to help my current situation. 

_“Basilton.”_

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on tumblr @mysticmalarkey


End file.
